


Shadows Settle

by SilverButterfly111



Category: Brave (2012), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), Rise of the Guardians (2012), Tangled (2010)
Genre: M/M, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, References to Norse Religion & Lore, hercules au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-01-22 16:08:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21304838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverButterfly111/pseuds/SilverButterfly111
Summary: "Jackson," The brown-haired stranger answered the unspoken question in a casual manner. "My friends call me Jack, at least they would if I had any friends."Jack shrugged off the darker implications to his self-deprecating humor. No use crying over the fact that he's sold his soul to the God of Death.Lesson learned.
Relationships: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III/Jack Frost (Guardians of Childhood)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 29





	1. Prologue: Child of Artemis

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a joke...And here we are.  
Any sort of feedback is greatly appreciated. Please enjoy!
> 
> Work Title Inspired by the song "Youth" by Daughter

** _Scotland, 975_ **

  
  
  
  


The gelding snorted and backed further away from the edge of the circle. Jackson glanced over his shoulder at it but didn't heed it's skittish behavior for better judgement. The young man lifted his head to gain perspective of the height. The villages of the outlying towns whispered rumors of the magic of the Callanish Stones.

The witch's hut was hidden from his sight once more. He would have rather bartered with her. She seemed sane by comparison to what he was about to do. He would have been willing to overlook the fact that she was the one who had given the potion. If she had helped him. He was only here because he was desperate. If he had any chance at stopping this…

The foreigner knelt in the frost covered grass. Uncovering a moonstone pendant from the folds of the navy blue cloak and began chanting in Gaelic. Pleading that the chant would still work even if it wasn't spoken in his mother tongue.

"Tha mi a ’gairm Bàs gus beatha a shàbhaladh, gus dàn atharrachadh. Anam airson anam mar mhalairt gus cothromachadh a chumail!"

The shadows shifted on the fifth repetition of the chant and his rising desperation.

"You know this place lies outside of my power."

The young man didn't grace the being before him with an answer until he pulled the hood of his cloak away from his head in order to free the chain that rested around his neck. Holding out the moonstone and testing the familiar weight of it in his fingers. The second smaller charm- an arrow etched from precious silver glinted like a fallen star as he cast it into the shadows. "I renounce Artemis' blessing, I have broken my oath-"

"And you believe me capable of staying the wrath of the Huntress?"

"I don't ask that of you. I ask that you stop Conall's madness-"

"Why should I care about a single mortal's madness?"

Jackson sputtered, faltering in his plead for the first time since stepping foot on the sacred ground of Callanish. "But- people will die! Good, honest people, he believes himself robbed of his birthright! He means to kill his brothers to reclaim it! Death is your domain, this war he plans is needless bloodshed!"

"Mortals die Jackson Overland, you will die yourself one day and you have hastened your death by rejecting the eternal youth Artemis bestowed upon you- she hasn't let a male join the ranks of her Hunters since Hippolytus. Do not turn your back on the Moon so lightly."

"I do not do it lightly if you will help me save him from his fate."

"A soul for a soul."

"As the-" Jackson began to agree but the sudden pain that overtook his chest caught his breath and pulled it from him. The immortal teenager curled in on himself to shelter his vital organs from the unknown blow his body was being dealt.

He smelled no blood, his hands would have found no wound could he have held them steady long enough to search for one. His vision flickered and he would have blamed the pain and sudden lightheadedness for what he saw.

The blue translucent thread that fled his body changed shape. The orb was small; twice the size of his thumb nail. Vaguely shaped like a Hummingbird.

The glint of gold drew his attention and he watched as the manifestation of his soul disappeared into a slender box. The air left his lungs in a pained gasp as darkness claimed his vision… 

×××

It was dark when he came back to his senses. He stood and drew his cloak around himself. His horse had wandered off and he prayed he would be able to find him nearby, walking back wouldn't even be within the realm of possibility. Not with his head the way it was. The brunete groaned and sat up. Flinching as his vision blurred. Gods, his head hurt. Where was Conall? They usually went hunting together...Conall had been with him right? Jack sighed in exhaustion. Standing and swaying on his feet. Snatching his discarded staff from the ground. Leaning heavily on the wood for half a dozen steps before he's confident to walk on his own.

Shrinking into his cloak at the gust of wind from the north. He looked to the stars to gather his bearings. Frozen grass crunching under his boots as he retreated from the circle of stone. It made him feel uneasy and he couldn't place why. He pressed his hand to the back of his head. Flinching but he felt no blood so that at least was a relief. Jack shook his head to clear his mind of fog and disappeared into the woods as he lifted his hood to cover his hair.

Clicking his tongue to coax his horse out of the undergrowth. The moonlight slipped behind the clouds as the Hunter followed the wind to the encampment. The promising warmth of a hearth and a tent beckoned him. The guards stood up and brandished swords at him. The youth raised an eyebrow at the hostility. Smirking. "I would love to see you try." He quips. Dismounting his horse in a single fluid motion.

The guards simultaneously retreat and lowered their weapons shooting cautious glances toward the tent a dozen feet away on the opposite side of the fire that's been reduced to glowing embers. Between one breath and the next Jack finds the familiar silhouette of the Prince obscuring the patch of candlelight spilling from the entrance.

"The mighty Hunter returns."

Jackson rolled his eyes. Glancing away from the knot he's tying into leather. The gelding huffed in protest at being restricted but it's more for Jackson's own peace of mind than actual fear that his mount will wander off again.

"Was I gone that long?"

"Hours."

Jack frowned slightly and turned back to face his horse to hide the expression as he mentally paces the bizarre memory gap. Trying to see if he could bridge the gap. He's always found lying an easier task if he's not looking at Conall.

"Really? It didn't feel that long," It hadn't. It doesn't help that he has fuzzy recollection of anything that had happened prior to waking up at the stones. "If you missed me so much, you could have come with me." 

The silence that met the comment has Jackson turning to gauge body language to gather if he has finally overstepped some boundary though he had no clue what it would have been.

"..You asked me not to…" Conall informed him. Jackson froze. Returning the expression of confusion mirrored in the Prince's dark eyes.

Had he? Why? He rubbed at his temple. Closing his eyes as exhaustion tugged at his mind. 

"I..don't remember saying you couldn't come...I'm sorry."

Conall's dark eyes watched him carefully and Jack met the gaze unflinching. Relieved to find no madness flickering within them. Simply concern.

"Are you well?"

The Hunter couldn't help but bristle just a bit at the inquiry. Lifting his chin and straightening his posture. "I'm simply tired."

This response was accepted with a slight inclination of the Prince's head; tilting to the promise of warmth.

"Come inside then. I'm sure Hunters need their sleep as much as any mortal does."

Jackson offered Conall a grateful and weary smile. Too exhausted to gather up a sly comment about how it's  _ his _ tent he's inviting Jackson into. When Jack has a perfectly good tent of his own. On the opposite side of the camp. For reasons specifically to deny invitations into tents belonging to nobility.

Not that that fact has helped him before.

"You're horribly persistent." The brunete shrugged at his own comment. Apparently he did have a quip left.

"At least tell me it's working."

Jack exhaled in a final exhausted sigh. He can't do this, he shouldn't want to have anything to do with him. It goes against everything Jackson has devoted his life to. And what of his sister? What would she do if she found him sitting here on foreign soil and having even the slightest thought of leaving her when he'd promised he'd come back.

He wants to shoot the smug warmongering Scotsman in the face ...or pin him against a tree. Either outcome would work at this point but he wishes he'd gone through with the former sooner so that the latter wouldn't be such a problem.

"It's working." Jackson begrudgingly admitted. If only to shut the other up. Though now he has to deal with that pleased smirk and he honestly can't decide what he finds more annoying. Jackson turned an amber glare on Conall to discourage the smug remark he can sense on the prince's tongue.

Jackson ignored the pitiful snort of distaste from his horse as he steps deftly over the stones that mark the dying fire. Tracing his own path to the light of the tent and disappearing into the temporary safe haven of his own accord. He suppressed a shiver as he felt Conall's presence lingering behind him. He kept his gaze resolutely on the tiny flame trapped within the lamp even when Conall's shadow swallows the wall.

"You're sure you're well. The guards said you left hours ago, I was beginning to think you'd ran off and left me." 

"...I went looking for something…" Jack whispered vaguely. Trying to recall exactly what it was he's done because there's a dread, a simple, lingering fear that his subconscious is trying to place on him. Whilst he's trying in vain to smother the emotions that cause his voice to slip and falter. He closed his eyes and tensed up. Bracing himself for the glint of madness he's become well acquainted with these past few months. He turns to face Conall.

He can't find it but he's worried. Worried it's just gotten used to him looking. What if it's hiding. Waiting. He prayed not.

"...Something to help you-" Jack finished. Expecting the other to scoff. To laugh. Brush him off as he's also gotten used to. When no such remark passed the Prince's lips. Jack continued. "You're brothers are going to do what they must to defend themselves-" 

"They won't win this." Conall objected. "There's no way that they could, I've made sure of that." 

Jack opened his mouth to continue his protest but he's taken aback by the hand against his cheek. "They don't have you on their side."

Jackson huffed forcing his voice to come on as level as possible. "I try not to pick sides...it- complicates things…"

Conall's fingers dig almost imperceptibly into Jack's cheek and he knows he's said the wrong thing. He sees it, the darkness he'd been looking for. The darkness he's tried so long to deny and ignore.

"You wouldn't do anything to betray me would you?" The question is expected but it cuts Jack deeper than he knows it should.

"No, of course not."

The grip like claws in his skin softened and Jack exhaled. The dread is still in his chest. In his mind; but it's easier to ignore it now.

"I know you wouldn't- I'm sorry, I didn't mean"

Jackson rolled his eyes into the shadow of his cloak hood. "Must you be so serious all the time? Gods help you." Jack whispered.

"They brought me you didn't they?"

"No, I'm here entirely of my own free will."

"I thought as much, you don't seem like the type to follow rules."

Jack shook his head. Expression an amused smirk. "Haven't ever really been good at following those." He agreed. Speaking evenly as he felt the slow and practiced unraveling of the strings that secured his cloak. It's not the feeling of fingers tracing his throat that sends shudders through him.

"Your pendant is gone."

Jack blinked. The offhand comment jarring him like drowning in ice water.

"..I lost it." Jack admitted. Knowing Conall

won't understand the weight of the statement.

There's the subtle warmth of breath on the empty hollow of his throat. "I'll get you another one."

Jack doesn't really believe that. Doesn't want that. Glancing out into the shadows he sees a flash of white. He blinks and it's gone but that doesn't stop him from whispering the name that will now haunt him for what he's done.

"Artemis~" He can't help whispering the name of the silver-haired, blue-eyed goddess that he'd seen for less than a second. 

Naming the dread that he's felt.

It's irritating that it's the same moment that Conall presses lips to the empty hollow of his throat. Jack can feel the arrogant bastard smirk, only because his lips are still on Jack's skin.

"I would have preferred a different name but invoking members of your parthenon is also acceptable."

Jack felt himself retreating. Eyes locked on darkness. Unable to shake fear.

"This is serious."

Conall's dark eyes roll in his head. "When have you ever been?"

"I know, I know." Jack's amber eyes flicker around the room like the fire trapped in the lantern. Landing on the chest at the side of the bed. "The potion," he muttered. A desperate simple plan taking root in his mind.

"...I want you to drink the potion that the witch gave you...I need to see if it works...if it does anything to you."

Conall sighed and shrugged. Rummaging around his various belongings for the key that unlocked the heavy wooden chest.

Jack had thought all of the precautions for one little glass vial was entirely unneeded. That was until he learned it had been bartered for from a witch. To turn the tide of the war that had become a stalemate. Jack wished he could simply be rid of it but he'd been caught last time. He didn't know how in Hades name Conall had known. On good days Jack can't hear his own footsteps. Perhaps it's true what he's been told about love making you do stupid things. It hadn't been the first mistake he's made in the Scottish Prince's name- but this?- what he's done tonight will be the last. Though he doesn't know it yet.

Jack clenched his fingers into fists. Fingernails biting into his palms but he's not quick enough to stop his tongue as doubts surface in his head once more.

"Wai-"

The liquid has already disappeared down Conall's throat.

Jack doesn't know what he was expecting but nothing happens and he exhaled. His breath comes out in a slightly visible trail of mist. He sends a silent prayer to Hades.

It worked. Whatever the God of Death had done...Conall is unchanged.

Outside the moon is still cloaked in the darkness of clouds.

×××

  
  


Jackson wakes clawing at his throat. The dream already fading. His pendant  _ was _ gone. Not a dream then, but then how is it that he's here? In his own tent and not…? There is still that dread. Crawling up and down his spine.

The darkness outside of the tent is choking. He disappeared into it regardless. Nocking an arrow to his bowstring. Even the fires usually scattered around the camp- to or three lit at any time- are all dark.

_ Wrong! _

Jack stalked through the camp dodging around firepit and sleeping soldiers with his near-silent footsteps. Eyes set on the only light he can see.

Conall's tent.

Jackson knows a trap when he sees one.

"I was wondering when you'd join us." The lilting voice has a cold edge to it. Jackson can hear her hunting dogs snarl warnings from off in the shadows as he levels the bow and arrow to her back in a warning of his own.

"Let him go Artemis."

"And why should I? Because you love him?"

The goddess turned her eyes away from her own bow and arrow fixed on Conall's chest.

"Spare me from such a petty excuse. That's the  _ reason  _ I should end him..You betrayed me, Jackson! Betrayed your sister! You broke your oath!"

"I'm aware of what I've done."

Artemis' lips twitch upward into a smirk. The edge of it as sharp as a knife.

"Yes, but are you aware of what he's done?" The goddess questions. "He hardly seems in mourning."

"Mourning?" Jackson repeated. "For whom?" 

"He- didn't go through with the… He didn't kill any of his kin!"

"No." Artemis agreed. Her patience fleeing her body in a cloud of mist like dragon's smoke. "Why do you think she is here?" The goddess indicated the maiden in Conall's presence.

"The youngest brother found your body in the woods. He delivered you here and declared surrender so that Conall would not lose another loved one."

"My body is fine!" Jackson protested.

"Now that your soul has returned to it." Artemis agreed. "Under any other circumstances I would thank you for stopping the bloodshed as I sent you to do." Artemis ran a pale finger across the shaft of her silver arrow. Her blue eyes held the calculated yet careless air of eons in the face of mere years.

Jackson had held the same detached air about himself for longer than he truly cared to remember. "However,"

There's the catch.

"There's the matter that you went to another God for help. You betrayed and insulted me."

"You cannot hurt Conall, a deal with a God is binding."

"Yet you broke mine when it wasn't suited to your needs. One you have held for nearly half a century. I will honestly regret to tell your sister you will not return to us." Artemis returned her attention onto Conall once more. 

"You did not save him as you would think. All you did was take away the illusion that the path he walks is his choice. When wolves go mad they must die. Love has blinded you. Conall has the makings of a tyrant.  _ You  _ made a tyrant! You gifted madness with power."

The Goddess' tone was cold as ice as her pale fingers pulled her bowstring taunt. "I offer you mercy. I will bargain with Hades for your soul. I will let you return to my Hunters- to your sister- if you do this one thing: End him."

Jackson froze. The cold air turned his skin to ice. He could taste the blood and bile on his tongue as he looked between Artemis and Conall.

"...I can't." He wouldn't. Not after what he'd gone through to ensure Conall was saved from his madness. Something that he saw now had all been in vain.

Artemis sighed. "I thought so." There was a moment of agonizing silence where he was made to wait. Knowing what was to come but powerless to stop it. The arrow seemed to whisper all of his faults and failures as it cut through the air and found its mark in Conall's heart.

Jackson lifted his head from the shifting shadow as the noblewoman screamed and fled the growling bear.

Artemis seemed indifferent to her terror. Jackson instinctively reached out to guide her out of the growing shadow of the creature mortals would name Mor'du.

She ran right through him. He turned bewildered eyes to Artemis as he stumbled back in shock.

If he had been hoping for sympathy, his goddess gave him none. "Your punishment," She intoned as she slipped the bow and arrow across her back. "You did after all, sell your soul to the God of Death."

Now her faithful hunting dogs showed themselves from the darkness and flanked her sides. Sending Jackson silent snarls. Teeth exposed. "Walk the Earth a kin to shades."

And that was the last Artemis spoke to him.

  
  
  


** _The Underworld, 1,275 (300 Years Later)_ **

  
  
  


Jackson blinked against the glint of gold in the darkness. The box always beckoned him when he retreated here. Drawn to it as a moth to flame. He knew what it held. The words it whispered to him. Promises to be whole. Free. He hadn't tried to open it when he had first discovered it in the labyrinth of wrought iron cages and the wind that carried shrieks and moans of mortal souls.

Jack knew the game for what it was now. Pitch had something Jack wanted. Simple as that. Jack could touch the golden box. Hear echoes of his sister's voice. Quiet those whispers with a gentle touch.  _ Feel _ whole again. The illusion would break as soon as his fingers lingered too long over the azure blue outline of a diamond that hid the mechanism of the hinges. If Jackson dared to make the box click. The shadows would snatch the box away faster than he could slip his fingers underneath the seam and free the thing that always called to him.

The box would disappear and Jack would know he'd lost, then it would begin again. Jack would always lose but that didn't stop him from playing the game.

There was little else to do down here when his heart began to grow indifferent to the affairs of mortals who didn't know of him.

He would have sought out his sister if it did not spell his death. The box was his only remaining link to a life he could hardly remember.

The box gave him hope.

It had been stronger the first time he'd ventured down here with glorified ideas to steal it out from under Pitch's nose.

The memory caused his present self bitter laughter as he tapped the gilded prison.

The thing inside responded with an echo of his rhythm. He still wasn't quite sure if he imagined the sorrowful trill; or if that was the sound his soul actually made.

"Jack."

The former Hunter spun around with a start. That was another thing he loathed about this place. It messed with his head. His hearing, his sight. What was the use of keeping Artemis' gifts if they were no use to him down here. Rhetorical.

"Merida."

"Thinking again?" Rapunzel spoke instead of the red-headed Fate.

"When is he not?" Gothel chimed in from the shadows as she appeared. In all her dark and unforgiving demonor. It was the third Fate that reminds Jack of Pitch. Not just for her dark hair. Jack held an unspoken but not unknown fear of the future as most mortals did. The future held death. Even for him, gifted- cursed with eternal youth as he was.

"Maybe you should go outside." Rapunzel spoke up once more.

Jackson tried not to laugh.

If only it were that simple. As if he could just walk out and continue with his life.

"And do what? Watch everything go on without me? I think not." His hand reached for the golden box again. Only to find it gone. He sighed. "Maybe next time."

The fingers of his free hand trailed absentmindedly against the stone. The fingers on the opposite hand tightened around his staff as he prepares for the jump. Perched on the thin ledge like a cat.

He watched them from his slightly altered vantage point for a moment before straightening up and walking toe to heel across the narrow aimless path. Staff resting across his shoulders.

"Pitch isn't here so-"

"We know." Came the three way chorus.

"We'll wait." Rapunzel reassured softly. Jack withheld a comment about her facade of naivety. It wasn't her fault humanity liked to look back on the past and picture innocence.

Jack shrugged a single shoulder tilting the angle of the wood resting there so it scraped the back of his ear. He didn't so much as flinch at the slight sting. Lowering his shoulder so his weapon lay flat again. "You know where to meet him."

×××

  
  


"Lupe! Deimos!" Pitch's voice echoed off the walls. Banishing Jackson's fragile peace of mind. Followed quickly by rushing footsteps. Jack barely glanced at Lupe and Deimos- or as Jackson muttered so often behind their backs. Ruffnut and Snotlout-

came out of the dark to heed their master's call. Standing at attention.

"You'll inform me of the instant the Fates' arrive."

Jackson smirked from his place standing on a different ledge as he watched the shades exchange uneasy glances with each other. Ruffnut twisted a messy blonde braid around her finger and tugged. She must have sensed Jackson's gaze upon her. Or perhaps she was praying to some other God because she glanced upward and then back down just as quickly when she read the meaning behind Jackson's smirk.

"Oh, um- they're here…"

"What?!" The shadows lashed out in response to the outburst.

Jackson dodged one such attack.. Digging fingernails into the stone wall as his heartbeat skipped inside his chest. Praying that the sudden movement hadn't betrayed his own hiding place. He would already be in enough trouble for touching the box that imprisoned his soul. Best let Pitch be oblivious that it was him who knew of the Fates arrival first.

Pitch sighed in irritation. Most of the shadows falling back into place "Memo to me, maim you after my meeting." The dark parted around him like a curtain and he was gone.

Jackson exhaled. Slipping back down against the stone to a sitting position. Losing himself to his own thoughts as he so often did.

_ How could the outside be worse than this? _ Sitting here in the dark suffering a different kind of torture...by choice! How could he think this the lesser of two evils?

He closed his eyes and allowed the darkness to lull him into sleep despite what lurked below. He'd learned long ago not to fear most monsters.

Such was every night after he touched his golden box. The Hunter heard the quick-hearted fluttering of hummingbird wings and dreamed of freedom.


	2. Child of Thor

** _"The day the world becomes shrouded in shadows shall mark the rise of what was forgotten and an age of death. _ **

** _ Fifteen years when the time comes that the sky burns with fire; Hvannar, child of Thor shall find his secret strength. _ **

** _ Five after a death shall bring new fury. The return of dragons to the sky and the moon will return from darkness."_ **

_ \- The Prophecy of the Fates _

  
  


**×××**

  
  


If looks from the God of Death could actually kill. Jack would be dead ten-score over. Ruffnut and Snotlout five times that.

"Sure, we can do that…" The son of Ares agreed. Trailing off into uncertainty. For the minor God of panic he portrays his aspect quite well with the way he glances at Lupe. Ruffnut rolls her eyes and scoffs at her stout companion with an air of authority.

"We're supposed to kill him." She reminds.

Pitch looked surprised to see Ruffnut possessed a brain cell. For all of five seconds.

"But how are we supposed to do that?" She posed her own question and wisely looked anywhere but at Hades when she does it.

Jack comes to the conclusion that he needs to pick a name set before it drives his idle mind insane faster than the pair of gods and the goddess do.

Hades- Pitch- Jack decided to stick with that nickname if only because it gives him the illusion of power in his situation. Pitch turns to look at him. Jack contemplated how a being who possessed no eyebrows can still manage an expression of raising one.

"Do you want to explain it to them?"

_ Not really.  _

_ _ "Deathgripper venom." His voice floats out into the air as if by its own accord. Deadpanned.

_ _ The former Hunter pushed off of the rusting metal trellis. That he's been sitting atop of in silence as he listened to Pitch try and rehash a plan that Jack has already heard a dozen times over. Fingers disappearing into his ever-present blue cloak. The vial is narrow and nearly small enough to be hidden in his fingers.

He reveals it anyway.

The bizarre purple hue immediately catching the attention of Ruffnut and Snotlout. Whom have the attention span of squirrels.

"There are rare rumours in the far north of a dragon that makes a poison strong enough to kill another. In the right dose. I've been told in confidence by a lesser plague spirit who called himself Grimmel. That it's capable of killing a lesser immortal."

Ruffnut and Snotlout blinked at the vial in unison with wariness and excitement both. Fingers twitching to snatch the venom from Jack's grip. The fire in their eyes as they glanced at each other promised chaos. Jack glanced at both of them with thinly veiled disgust. He doesn't want to give it to either of them. He doesn't want to see them fight each other for the chance to hold the power of death in their hands.

They're already mad enough as it is.

He throws the vial at them, praying that it will shatter on the stones before either of them can catch it. That of course doesn't happen. It's Pitch who catches the glass instead.

He smirks at Jack over the key to his victory. 

The Hunter doesn't so much as blink at the expression. "Killing him isn't going to be the problem. I'd be more worried about them getting past the Valkyries." Jack pointed at Snotlout and Ruffnut who have lunged at each other and started throwing punches in an attempt to be the first to get closer to the coveted vial in the cage of bony gray fingers. 

Jack is already turning his shoulder to his fellow immortals. There's a cold and gentle caress of a shadow on his cheek. Halting his steps and making him suppress a shudder that is more revulsion than fear. He turned to Pitch. Baring his bright teeth in the mockery of a patient smile.

"You're going with them." 

Jack's laughter bubbled up out of his throat and burned like acid. Echoing off the walls loud enough to drown out the constant mournful wailing that sang in this place like the wind. He sounds insane. He knows he does and he'll use that as an excuse.

"You want me to raid Valhalla, to kill a God?"

The silence is answer enough. When did his world become such insanity? He knows exactly when and he doesn't like to think of that time. So instead he lifted one shoulder in a trademark shrug as far as Pitch and his little minions are concerned.

"Sounds like fun."

×××

  
  


Jackson has learned to take solace in the fact that very few mortals can see him. It absolves him of most of his guilt when Pitch sends him to all corners of the Earth to do the God's bidding. Simply because Pitch can tell him to.

For all he's tried to distance himself from humans, he still holds mortal understanding of emotions. He holds his bitterness like a shield against what is going to come for him if this goes wrong. And it's bound to.

Even with Snotlout and Ruffnut able to change form flawlessly enough to fool immortals. They're Ruffnut and Snotlout.

So he's not at all surprised when the red and green dragons descend upon him empty-clawed. And pacing back and forth snarling and snapping at each other.

"We had him!" Ruffnut defended. Emerging from the cloud of green smoke wearing the normal guise of the female that Jackson is more used to seeing her in.

"We dropped him." Snoutlout grumbled. Similarly shedding dragon scales for a mockery of human skin. He's holding one arm against his side and it's too dark to see the extent of the injury but Jack can faintly smell blood through the rain.

"You... _ dropped _ him?" Jackson repeated. Just to be sure he's heard right. 

There's a distant rumbling of thunder to confirm instead of the two minor deities. Ruffnut and Snotlout flinched and cower. It's impossible to tell if they're trying to escape the impending storm of Thor's rage or if they fear the much closer threat of Jackson's bow and arrow resting over his shoulder.

"How did you drop him?" 

"He's small!!" Came the unified defense. The Hunter snorts in disbelief.

"He's dead at least, right?" Though the shade knows the answer to that question before he's asked.

There's blood on Snotlout and likely on Ruffnut but she isn't cradling any of her own limbs. While Jack can see the faintest tint of purple on Ruffnut's hands even in the dim light. When she crouched in the grass to rid herself of the substance that she secretly fears. It's far too much on her skin and not injected into the bloodstream of their target.

The god lives.

"Where?" The single word is enough for them to understand.

The island is cold as Hel's realm.

Jackson can easily follow the path of destruction that his allies have left for him. Tracking is second nature and allowed his thoughts to build up any sort of defense against his actions.

_ The man he's hunting isn't a mortal though he may appear it. He's a God. A cosmic force that will mettle with the lives of humans just as Artemis had done. It doesn't matter that Jackson vowed never to kill without reason. He has a habit of breaking oaths anyway. It's what got him into this mess and it's what's going to get him out. _

_ After this he's done. He'll go back to the Underworld and beg Merida or Rapunzel find a way to snap his thread. Drink from the river Lethe and give himself to the souls in the Acheron. He will not come forth even should Pitch attempt to drag his broken soul from the depths and place him in another mortal form. _

_ He's done listening to Gods. _

The deep rut in the Earth that he's been following comes to such an abrupt end that he stumbles and recovers from the embarrassment of doing so by looking around to gauge how far he's walked since the last landmark. 

And also to pick a new direction to go in since this seemed to be the point of the crash landing in which Ruffnut and Snotlout had gathered enough of their limited senses to remember that the sky's direction was up. He sees a bulky shadow retreating into a distant gap between the trees and cursed Merida's name as the Fate of the Present. That someone should have discovered the path of chaos.

….Unless that's his quarry… If that's the case Ruffnut and Snotlout need to rethink their definition of small.

Jack climbs out of the deep scar in the Earth as easily as if the wind had lifted him. Careful to trace a path that keeps the moonlight in front of him so that his shadow is cast behind him and not across the stranger's path when he managed to get close enough that it might give him away.

He slid his bow from his shoulder with a gentle whisper of wood against cloth.

He pressed his back against a tree. Drowning out the screaming wind of the howling tempest. He plants his feet to the Earth as he feels his fingers going through the motion of placing an arrow. He counts the spaces between lightning strikes and thunderclaps so that he can abandon the grounding weight of the tree at his back in the moments when shadows lay their thickest.

The God has his back turned to him. The bowstring goes taunt and sings the gentle hum of a death song that Jack can feel to the tips of his fingers.

The weapon is slowly leveled at the man's shoulder blades.

The world erupts into a blinding flash of light and horror strikes a deeper echo of the thunder that rumbled a moment after. Jack sees his own shadow fall over the God's path and he struggled to control rising fear when he sees the man's shoulders go stiff as he starts to turn.

"Who's there?" He demanded. Glaring into the darkness as the light fades and staring right at Jack with the arrow still trained on his form. Outside of the instinctive demand that Jackson reveal himself the man doesn't seem at all concerned or insulted to find a stranger making silent threats upon his life.

He's looking straight at Jackson and doesn't so much as flinch.

The former Hunter lowered his bow as reaction to the momentary confusion he sees painted across the man's stern features. 

Jack exhaled a shaky breath in relief at the realization that the man standing before him; although tall and built more like a bear than any man he's ever seen- barring certain people whom were turned  _ into _ actual Ursidae... Who he'd sworn not to think about!- The man before him is truly a mortal. Jackson blinked. Allowing his own expression to slip into wariness as he stood and made sense of his world again.

If this isn't his target then what on Earth is he supposed to do?

_ Find him! _

_ _ The voice of that particular inner thought sounds alarmingly like Pitch. So much so that Jack glanced around trying to distinguish shades of black from one another. In the next flash of light that cuts through the sky. He sees the smaller shadow held protectively against the Viking man's chest. Unknowingly in the path of his waiting arrow.

_ 'He's small!'  _

Jackson recoiled at the realization that settled into his mind. He closes his eyes and lifted his weapon again. Grip surprisingly steadfast. He hears the hiss of air and off in the undergrowth a rabbit screams in pain to fall silent a moment later.

When the mortal man looks towards the sound. Jackson disappeared into the trees.

Bright eyes watched from the darkness until the Viking has disappeared from their sight. Only then does Jackson look down at the unfortunate victim that took his arrow instead of the infant.

He'll go back to the Underworld still smelling of death.

"He's dead?" Ruffnut and Snotlout chorus Jack's own question back at him.

"As good as." Jackson answers as he emerges from the trees.

"You dropped him in the Barbaric Archipelago. He won't survive fifteen years."

×××

  
  


The only thing that the Valkyries found was the burning wall. The Night Fury fledgling and the baby were gone. The shadows of dragons disappearing marked the culprits of the crime.

Thor cast all the dragons from Valhalla in his rage.


End file.
